Gone with the Bond
by Dead Pan Contest
Summary: My entry for the Dead Pan contest - it’s Gone with the Wind, SVM style! Sing it with me: da DAH da dum, da DAH da dum, da DAH DAH DAH, da DAH da dum!


**Title: Gone with the Bond**

**Story/movie parodied: Gone with the Wind**

**Characters: Sookie, Eric, Bill, Amelia, Pam, Alcide, Gran, Fintan, Franny, Quinn, Thalia, Felicia, Sam, Twining**

**Disclaimer: Charlaine Harris and Margaret Mitchell own everything cool.**

**Summary: **My entry for the Dead Pan contest - it's _Gone with the Wind_, SVM style! Sing it with me: da **DAH** da dum, da **DAH** da dum, da DAH DAH **DAH**, da **DAH** da dum!

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Sookie settled on her sofa with a pint of Ben and Jerry's and her old afghan **(**the same one Eric and Bill called 'hideous'**)** to watch "Gone with the Wind" for the 400th time. She needed something to occupy her evening while she waited for Eric to arrive after leaving Fangtasia. She remembered seeing Rhett sweep Scarlett up the stairs of their Atlanta mansion and then… not so much.

Much later than expected, Eric entered the living room to a snoring Sookie and a hissing VCR. Shaking his head, he turned off the TV and VCR, removed the empty pint and spoon from Sookie's grip and lifted his sleeping lover from her sofa. Carrying her down the hall, she stirred a little.

"Rhett and Scarlett…" she mumbled. "Just like Rhett and Scarlett…"

He rolled his eyes as he tucked her into bed.

(cue swirling dream music)

Scarlett "Sookie" O'Stackhouse was getting ready for the big barbecue over at the Compton plantation. She had on her best dress - white muslin with little sprigs of red flowers, and a giant sunhat to protect her porcelain skin. It really chapped her hide that Southern ladies weren't supposed to tan. She really did think tan skin was prettier than being pale, but it wasn't considered "proper."

Sookie was the belle and the flirt of the parish. She didn't have the tiniest waist, but she had the biggest bosom, and everyone knew that's what it took to catch a beau. She had long blonde hair and pretty blue eyes, and while she didn't complete much schooling, she'd been known to read a book or ten. She was the oldest of three sisters - Thalia the middle child and Felicia the youngest. Thalia was always jealous of Sookie, because she was the favorite of their grandparents, Fintan and Adele O'Stackhouse. Felicia was the complete opposite of Thalia - timid as a church mouse and scared of her own shadow.

Sookie was excited to go to the barbecue because she would get to see the keeper of her heart - her beloved Bashley. Bashley Thomas Compton had finally returned from his Grand Tour, and had he ever grown up! With deep black eyes, dark hair with sexy man-bangs and side burns, he'd always been Sookie's nearest neighbor but somehow she had never noticed him before. Since he'd come back, it was like he was a whole different person. So, so… brooding!

Soon Grandpa Fintan had them all bundled into their carriage. Gran had to stay behind at their plantation, Tara Thornton, to deal with some issues and Sookie was glad - that way no one would be able to chaperone her behavior today. Fintan meant well, but get him around poker and liquor and he forgot he had charges to mind.

Sookie hummed a little to herself and Thalia pushed her meanly. "I don't know why you're so happy. Everyone knows you've been sweet on Bashley for months and he's going to announce his engagement to his cousin Miss Amellyia Quinn today," she snarled.

"Oh, Thalia, don't be so mean." Felicia timidly tried to stick up for Sookie, but Thalia pinched her harshly.

"Sookie, have you been acting like less than a lady? Do I need to have a "talk" with Bashley?" Fintan chose that unfortunate moment to tune into his granddaughters' conversation.

"I have been a complete lady and Bashley a gentleman, thank you very much Thalia!" Sookie retorted.

Satisfied he didn't have to do anything but enjoy the party, Fintan called, "Girls! Is that a fairy I'm seeing over in the Compton's grove?" He had already enjoyed a few nips o' whiskey before setting out for the barbecue, so everyone ignored him and continued on their way.

**Xxx**

Sookie sat surrounded by beaux, picking unhappily at her food. Today should have been the best day of her life, the day she told Bashley he was the one she had set her heart on, but he hadn't left the side of that skinny little Amellyia all day! Why, she barely had any cleavage! At Sookie's right sat Amellyia's brother John Quinn, a silly kitten of a boy who took the odd step of shaving his head - some said to hide his growing baldness. He had been glued to her side all day, irritating her and ensuring that she couldn't finagle her way to Bashley.

After everyone had eaten and all the guests were enjoying the cool shade, conversation turned to the threat of war. Sookie's mind wandered, as it always did during these talks, and settled on a handsome blond stranger standing on the porch. He was tall - very tall - with broad shoulders and well-developed muscles. His hair was long, just past his shoulders, and his trousers and broadcloth jacket were well tailored and fit him snugly. Both were black, which was odd considering the heat of the South, yet his waistcoat was crimson. As if he felt her eyes on him, his leonine head swiveled in her direction, his startlingly blue eyes capturing hers. His mouth curved up in a lazy grin and his eyebrows waggled at her suggestively.

"_Why… why… he looks as though he knows what I look like without my corset!"_ Sookie thought indignantly.

Suddenly, a name being called brought her attention back to the war talk. Someone was asking Bashley his thoughts.

"Well gentlemen, if Louisiana fights, I'll go with her. But I think we would be wise to try to negotiate with the North."

"Negotiate? With Yankees? We're gentlemen; we can always fight better than rabble!" This was Fintan's helpful contribution from under a deep oak tree, where he was refilling his flask. Suddenly he clued in to the stranger in their midst. "What say you, Northman?"

"I say you have no foundries, nowhere near enough munitions, and only one trade route to the sea. I'd say, you're licked." Again, he shot a leer at Sookie.

The men at the party launched themselves out of their seats to challenge the newcomer, but Bashley quickly intervened. "Mr. Northman is my guest, and I have been quite lax at showing him around. Perhaps you'd like to see my library?"

"Indeed I would." With a tip of his broad black Panama hat in Sookie's direction, the stranger followed Bashley into the house.

**xxx**

Sookie knew it was now or never - she had to speak to Bashley before his engagement was announced that night. Surely if he knew how _she_ felt about him, he would never marry Amellyia. She waited until all the ladies had retired for their afternoon nap before slipping her gown back on and stealthily creeping downstairs.

She darted across the foyer and into the library, hiding behind the door. She peeked out until she saw Bashley leave the parlor. She called out to him in a whisper.

"Sookie? What are you doing in here?" He looked around, brooding, as his man-bangs fell into his eyes. That one look was all it took for her carefully practiced speech to go out the window, and she hurled herself into his arms.

"Oh, Bashley, I love you!" She attacked his lips, kissing him with as much passion as a girl who has only been chastely kissed can. After a moment, though, she began to realize he was not reciprocating.

"What's wrong? Don't you love me? Don't you want to marry me?" she pleaded.

"I'm going to marry Amellyia," he replied coolly.

"But - but - you love me, I know you do!"

"Oh, Sookie, you are so young and full of fire! Don't you know that only when like marries like can one truly be happy?"

"No!" she cried, stamping her foot. "I only know that I love you and you don't love me!"

"Oh, sweetheart, I will always love you, but I have to marry Melly. Besides, you had the attention of every other man at the barbecue today, was that not enough?" he asked, smiling.

"NO! Bashley Compton, I rescind your invitation to this library!" Sookie was headed for a full-scale meltdown, and she needed him away from her so she could think.

"You're un-inviting me from my own library?" he asked, chuckling quietly.

"YES! Just… just go!" she cried.

"Very well my dear. I will see you later on at the ball." Bowing, he kissed her hand and left, closing the doors behind him.

Sookie looked around and grabbed the closest item at hand - a small porcelain cat. She threw it as hard as she could towards the fireplace.

In the ringing silence afterwards, a voice from the couch said, "THAT was too much."

Sookie could hardly breathe from shock as the tall figure from the porch slowly rose from the couch. "First, I had to bear witness to one of the most painful love scenes I've ever heard, and then you throw crockery at me?" A smirk appeared at the corners of his mouth.

"You should have made your presence known," Sookie said with her chin high.

"And miss hearing the virtuous Mr. Compton wiggle his way out of your clutches? By the way, what do you see in him? He is not nearly enough man to keep up with a lady with your… zest for life."

"And I care what you think because? You are?"

He gave her an overly dramatic bow. "Rhetteric Northman, at your service."

She nodded coolly back. "Sookie O'Stackhouse."

From outside came a clamor of yelling and whooping, and Fintan suddenly ran into the foyer. "War! The Yankees have declared war!" Soon the entire plantation was a flurry of activity as more boys went to enlist. Sookie slipped aside and watched from the window, as Bashley bent down from his horse to give Amellyia a kiss. Suddenly it seemed like the world was ending.

A warm hand touched her elbow, and she found herself next to Quinn, Amellyia's brother. "Miss O'Stackhouse, I wonder if I could write to you from camp?"

"Uh huh, sure…" She was too preoccupied with the scene in front of her to really notice what he was saying.

"I hope that we might get to know each other, and in time become betrothed," the silly fool gushed at her.

"Betrothed?" Sookie's mind caught on that word and suddenly paid more attention to the bald boy next to her. If Bashley didn't want her, at least someone did!

"I wouldn't want to wait…" she trailed off.

His weird purple eyes lit up. "I'll go speak to your grandfather now…babe. _Babe_," he said again, almost in wonder to himself.

**xxx**

Within weeks, Sookie became a bride and a widow. She had married John Quinn, against her grandmother's counsel to wait, just days before Bashley married Amellyia and a mere two weeks before both Quinn and Bashley went to join their regiments. She had stood, her heart breaking, next to her new husband as Bashley took Amellyia as his bride.

Her two weeks as a bride had been a bit unusual, to say the least. Each night, Quinn would come to her room and find her in her nightgown, but each night as he took her in his arms, he would barely touch her before suddenly shuddering to himself and moaning loudly. After several nights of this, she forbade him from coming anywhere near her and banished him toa chair in the corner of the room. So, when the news came that a horrible attack of dysentery had killed Quinn just weeks into his Confederate training, Sookie was as untouched as she had been before her wedding.

Other things had changed, though. She was bored out of her ever-loving mind! Suddenly she was a widow, and not allowed to do anything fun. She had to wear horrible, hot black all the time, and could no longer participate in her favorite activity - flirting. She began to sigh wistfully and pick at her meals. Adele, aggrieved to see the best bosom in Louisiana shrinking, decided upon a change of scenery.

A few weeks later, Sookie found herself on the train bound for Shreveport, to stay with Amellyia and Quinn's other sister, Miss Frannypat. Sharing a home with her two sisters-in-law wasn't exactly her idea of fun, but at least she would be out from under the censoring gaze of her grandparents. Plus, she had heard there were lots of lovely men in Shreveport, so it couldn't be all bad.

Stepping off the train, she found herself in a bustling wartime town. She could smell the river, and she swore she could almost catch a glimpse of the big riverboats that cruised leisurely up and down the banks. Giving her new address to an attendant to deliver her luggage, she began to take in the sights around her in earnest.

Shreveport was quite the bustling little town - certainly the busiest place Sookie had ever seen. As she glanced around for Amellyia's buggy, her eyes caught a woman standing in front of the most ornate, garish building Sookie had ever laid eyes upon. The woman had pale blonde hair and ice blue eyes, and she was wearing a very elaborate gown. She was laced into the tightest corset Sookie had ever seen; it was a marvel the woman could even breathe. Her gown showed more cleavage than was ever acceptable, and she had on rouge and lip color. Sookie locked eyes with the woman and they stared at each other coolly across the busy area. A voice pulled Sookie away from the intriguing woman.

"THERE you are! My dear, we've been looking for you everywhere!" Amellyia's voice floated down from her buggy. Suddenly she caught just what and whom Sookie was staring at. "My dear, get in this buggy this instant! For heaven's sake, what would dear John think if he knew I allowed his widow to be seen gazing at that woman?"

Sookie climbed into the buggy, which quickly took off. "Miss Amellyia, who was she?"

"Melly, dear - I insist. We're sisters now. Well… that was a… a lady of the night. That is her establishment behind her. Her name is Pamela Ravenscroft; she is the most scandalous thing!" Melly blushed furiously.

"REALLY?" Sookie twisted around to get a better look at the woman fading out of sight behind them.

"Oh Sookie, don't look! Really, she is quite bad for the reputation." Melly giggled.

"_Just minutes in Shreveport and already things are more interesting…"_ Sookie thought.

**xxx**

Life quickly settled into a routine for the sisters-in-law. Their days were spent nursing at the hospital, embroidering items to raise money for the troops, and, of course, waiting for letters from Bashley. It was hard for Sookie to hide just how interested she was in the letters, listening to Melly read them aloud. It was even harder, knowing there were secret parts Melly kept to herself.

For the most part, Sookie was bored. She may not have been living with her grandparents, but she was now under the watchful eye of her two ladylike sisters-in-law. Miss Frannypat got on her nerves, seeing as she was very excitable and jumped at the slightest noise. Any little disturbance would have her screaming, and usually only Melly could get her to hush. Sometimes, Sookie swore Melly was a witch, the way she would quietly murmur until Frannypat was in a calmed state.

It was so hard trying to be a respectable widow, when there were so many handsome soldiers around and so many fun things to do! But no, Sookie couldn't socialize because she was in mourning. It was hard for her to pretend she missed Quinn; sometimes it was hard to even remember what he looked like. She had only a vague memory of purple eyes and a bald head.

One afternoon, while Sookie and Melly were embroidering, Miss Frannypat came rushing into the house.

"Ladies! Oh, it's so exciting! There's going to be a ball, and we get to go! Ohhh!" Frannypat began screaming and collapsed into a chair.

"What do you mean, we get to go?" Melly asked. "We aren't to go in public for months yet."

"We are to go and run a booth selling our embroidery. We were asked specially, so that the local belles can be free to dance and mingle with the soldiers." Frannypat was beginning to get very wound up.

"But we can't-" Melly started.

"I think we can, and we should. We've spent months embroidering these items, and we should get to sell them to raise money for the Cause. I, for one, am going," Sookie stated definitely.

"Oh… well, I suppose as long as we stay in our booth we should be fine…" Melly was still hesitant.

"Good. It's settled!" Sookie smiled her first real smile in months.

**xxx**

The cotillion hall was decorated with bunting, banners and draping in Confederate colors. The center of the floor was left clear for a large dance area; around the perimeter of the hall were various booths and seating for the matrons. Sookie and Melly were in the far back corner, almost hidden, but still Sookie was happy. She had on her prettiest dress (even if it was black), her hair was shining and she was around music again! Oh, she loved to dance, and while it was wonderful to be out and social again, it was so hard to not be able to join. Her foot tapped impatiently and her hips bounced up and down as she leaned on the counter of the booth, resting her chin in her palm.

She didn't know it, but she was being watched… across the room, bright blue eyes took in her wriggling form and smiled.

Finally, the band took a break and the local doctor, Dr. Ludwig, climbed onto the stage. She was a tiny thing, but formidable and well versed in the healing arts.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have something unusual occurring tonight. To help in our efforts to raise money for the Cause, we are holding an auction. For the next waltz, if you wish to dance with a lady, gentlemen, you must bid for her."

Gasps went around the room and young girls giggled. The bidding began, and young ladies were "bought" for a dance. The highest bid so far was around $20, a small fortune. A voice rang out from the back of the hall.

"One hundred and fifty dollars in gold, for Mrs. John Quinn." The crowd murmured its disapproval and all heads swung to see whose voice it was, Sookie's included. Standing in the back, towering over the crowd was Rhetteric Northman.

Dr. Ludwig was incensed. "She is in mourning, Northman, and will not consider it. Choose one of our other lovely young ladies."

"Dr. Ludwig, I said Mrs. John Quinn," Rhetteric's voice was quiet but firm.

"She will not-" Dr. Ludwig began.

"Oh, yes I will!" Sookie yelled. All eyes turned to her, including a very amused pair of blue eyes that quickly strode towards her.

The band struck up a tune and Sookie folded gracefully into Rhetteric's arms. "Why did you ask me to dance, sir?"

"Because, Dear One, you so clearly need to. You were practically begging for it," he smirked.

"In that case, you'd better make it a good one, because my reputation is in ruins!" Sookie giggled.

"Oh, it won't be just one dance. Now that you're out here, you're _mine_ for the night." Rhetteric leered.

And dance they did. It was wonderful to be dancing again, especially with such a good partner. Sookie was surprised at how well Rhetteric danced - most men his size were not as graceful. He twirled her until she felt like she was floating on air.

**xxx**

After that night, a familiar pattern emerged. Rhetteric would disappear for a few weeks, then return with some outlandish gift for Sookie. She tried to refuse, knowing a lady shouldn't take gifts from a gentleman other than her husband, but her protests sounded something like this:

"Rhetteric, no, I really can't, I don't want to be thought of as a kept woman… ooh look! A bonnet!"

Soon enough her protests died before even being uttered, as Rhetteric made sure to always bring something he knew her heart simply could not resist. For propriety's sake, he always brought something small for Melly and Frannypat as well. That way Sookie at least had her thin veneer of respectability in front of the other matrons. Eventually, he had brought her new sewing needles (very hard to come by in war-rationed Shreveport), some gold satin to make into a scarf for herself, and some lovely thread.

Sookie had the new scarf entirely pictured in her mind, down to the embroidery, when the news came that Bashley was coming home on furlough. Instantly, all thoughts of a scarf were abandoned and she decided to make a sash for Bashley instead, to liven up his uniform. Her thoughts weren't entirely unselfish, as Melly had gotten hold of some grey broadcloth and was sewing him a new uniform. Ooh! That thought was enough to make Sookie so mad! But Melly's uniform wouldn't distinguish him, whereas _her_ sash would.

Finally, after weeks of waiting and sewing, sewing and waiting, Bashley arrived in Shreveport and made his way to the ladies' house. The real surprise was standing behind him on the stoop - Grandpa Fintan! The ladies clucked and fussed over the two, putting a hot meal in front of them.

Conversation was light and easy as the girls caught Bashley and Fintan up on the Shreveport gossip. Finally, over a pecan pie for dessert, Sookie asked Fintan what had prompted his visit.

"Well, rumors have reached me an' your Gran that a certain Mr. Northman has been paying court to you, lass. I'm here to see what his intentions are and make sure he treats you as a lady."

Realizing now would be a good time to break up the party, Bashley stood and offered Melly his hand. "Ladies, if you will excuse me, it has been a long journey. I believe I will call it a night."

There were nods from around the table as Melly shyly took Bashley's hand. It gave Sookie a pang to realize that they were going the one place she could not go - Melly's bedroom. Fintan stood and excused himself as well. "I believe I will head downtown for a nightcap and to find Mr. Northman." Slamming on his hat, he shot out the front door towards a nip o' whiskey.

After hours of lonely sniffling, Sookie was awakened by a very familiar song.

"_The Wearin' o' the Green? I didn't think anyone but Grandpa Fintan knew that song,"_ she thought, and then realization hit her. "_Sweet Jesus, Shepherd of Judea!_"

Grabbing a kerosene lamp, she slipped downstairs and was at the door before the knock could wake the house. Yanking it open, what she saw surprised her.

Holding up her grandfather was none other than Rhetteric Northman. He looked to have had a few drinks himself, as his cravat was askew and his long blonde hair, usually tied neatly behind him, tumbled loose around his shoulders.

"I see you've been doing a fine job of helping my granddad find the bottom of a whiskey barrel, "Sookie stormed.

"You're lucky I decided to keep him company," Rhetteric said, without a trace of a slur in his voice. "I had to remove him from 'The Painted Lady' before he got thrown out by Clancy, the bouncer. And he's lucky I haven't harmed him myself - he tried to cheat me at poker." His eyes had a twinkle in them that belied his words as he took in her dressing gown.

Sookie pulled the gown more tightly closed and stepped into the foyer. "Well, bring him in and put him on the sofa then." She watched as Rhetteric easily maneuvered him down onto the sitting room divan. Then a thought occurred to her. "Wait… 'The Painted Lady!' What on Earth were you doing there?"

No sooner had the question left her lips than Rhetteric's eye was drawn to a scrap of silk shoved between the sofa cushions. Taking it from its hiding place, he dangled Bashley's sash in front of her eyes as his own hardened.

"So this is what you made from my silk, eh? And what are these initials I spy, stitched so lovingly? 'B.T.C.' I wonder who that stands for!" he snarled, tossing the fabric at her. He was out the door before she could say a word. When he reached the gate, he turned.

"As for 'The Painted Lady,' I own it," he snapped and strode off down the street, taking little comfort in her shocked expression.

**xxx**

"Ye Gods, Pamela, I just don't know what she sees in him." Rhetteric was making his way steadily through a bottle of Scotch.

"I'm sure I don't know," came her dry response. "I did warn you never to take up with one of those spoiled little debutante girls."

They were in Pam's private sitting area at 'The Painted Lady,' Shreveport's premiere brothel and saloon. Pam was clad in an ice blue silk wrapper, not a blonde hair out of place. She gazed coolly at Rhetteric.

"Frankly, I just don't know what _you_ see in _her_. There are prettier women around for you to choose from."

"It's not just that she's pretty, Pam, although she is beautiful. She can make me laugh like no other, and she's got such spirit, such fire! Which is what makes it even more incomprehensible to me - that she could love someone like that man-banged wet blanket."

"Never try to unlock the mysteries of a woman's heart, Rhetteric, that's my advice."

He chuckled. "That's sound advice from a heartless woman like you, Pam. I suppose I'm just lucky you're my friend!"

**xxx**

Months went by and Rhetteric stayed away from Shreveport. After Bashley left and the warmth faded from her heart at seeing him wear her sash, Sookie found she missed Rhetteric more and more. Things were worse now, in the war; there were no more balls or parties and fewer excuses to laugh. Sookie missed his easy humor, and the way that nothing she said shocked him. She missed him even more after the horrifying news came that Melly was pregnant. Every spare man in Shreveport, young and old, had been called into action, so no one was around to help distract her from the sight of Melly's ever-growing stomach.

It seemed like forever before Sookie saw Rhetteric again. Now that Melly was too pregnant to leave the house, she was no longer able to go downtown to nurse the soldiers. She had sweet-talked Sookie into taking her shifts, something she hated.

After one of these nursing shifts, Sookie stumbled out of the hospital in her oldest dress and began heading blindly towards home. Just as her foot stepped off the sidewalk, she almost ran into the side of an enormous black horse. Looking up and shielding her eyes from the sun, she realized that seated upon the horse was Rhetteric.

He looked like a Viking God atop his huge stallion, and when his piercing blue eyes glanced down and realized who had spooked his steed he looked shocked. Sookie's eyes were tired and empty, and she had forgotten to remove her blood-spattered apron.

"Sookie? What on earth happened? Why are you covered in blood?"

His words sank in, and suddenly Sookie was embarrassed that he had seen her in a faded old dress, with messy hair and a bloody apron. Ripping the apron off, she stuffed it into her bag and tried to will some energy to her face.

"Oh, it's nothing. I'm nursing in the hospital, is all." She tried to give a gay laugh, but it sounded flat to his ears.

"You, nursing? Surely there must be other gentleman in Shreveport to catch your attention - must you go among the sick and wounded for your beaux?" Rhetteric's eyes twinkled at her. "I wouldn't think nursing to be your cup of tea."

"It isn't," she replied bitterly. "Melly is… in a delicate condition, and so I am taking her shifts."

"I see," he said thoughtfully. It wasn't lost on him that perhaps with the thought of Bashley's imminent fatherhood, Sookie might have finally relinquished her affection for him. At any rate, she looked like she could barely stand.

"Well, since there seem to be no other able-bodied gentlemen in Shreveport at present, allow me to escort you home." He lifted her by the waist and easily swung her up onto his horse.

"Oh, thank you, Rhetteric! I'm so tired I could cry!" Sookie was grateful.

"No need for tears, Dear One, I could never stand to see a woman in tears." He took the reins in his hand and, with her almost collapsed atop his horse, led them home.

**xxx**

It was the height of summer in Shreveport, and Melly was several weeks past her due date. No one had heard from Bashley in months, and that combined with the heat, the stress of waiting for the baby and the escalating war had their little household on edge. Everyone knew the Yankees were coming, but no one knew exactly when - there was no trustworthy information source. For the past two days, they had been running back and forth, up and down stairs trying to keep Melly comfortable. Finally, her labor started in earnest, but it did not progress well. It seemed to drag on endlessly, with regular contractions but no baby in sight.

Sookie sent Frannypat downtown to fetch Dr. Ludwig. The girl's frequent bouts of hysterics were getting on Sookie's nerves, and she felt helpless to cope with delivering a baby. Surely something was wrong? Two days seemed an outrageous time to be in labor. She had just gone back upstairs to check on Melly when she heard Frannypat running towards the house.

"Sookie! Ohh, it's just awful!" Frannypat flung open the front door and sobbed.

Sookie rushed back down the stairs and clamped her hand over Frannypat's mouth. "Hush up! Don't upset Melly, just calm down and tell me what's wrong."

Panting, Frannypat calmed herself enough to say, "The Yankees are here… Dr. Ludwig can't come… too busy with the wounded… we have to leave! Ohh! Yankees, here!" She was gearing up for another round of hysterics when Sookie shook her, hard.

"Hush, I said! Go back downtown and go to 'The Painted Lady.' Ask the bouncer Clancy to fetch Rhetteric Northman. Tell him we need him and a buggy, and do not leave until he agrees!"

"'The Painted Lady?!' But I can't go there, it's too scandalous! Ohh! What would people think?" Sookie's patience snapped, and she reared her hand back and slapped Frannypat as hard as she could.

"Stop making excuses and just GO!" she roared. Frightened mute (at last), Frannypat clutched her cheek and ran off. Turning to head back upstairs, Sookie heard a faint cry.

"Sookie!"

She rushed back to Melly's room and found Melly finally in hard labor. For the next hour and a half she held Melly's hand while she pushed. Finally, near dead from exhaustion, Melly pushed Bashley's son into the world.

Sookie swaddled the newborn and handed him to his mother, who held him weakly in her arms. Hearing a commotion from downstairs, she rushed to the landing and saw Rhetteric throw open the front door and come up the stairs toward her, two at a time.

"Melly has had the baby?" he asked gruffly. Sookie just nodded, beyond exhausted.

'_Thank God,'_ she thought. _'Rhetteric's here now, he can handle things.'_

Rhetteric pushed past her into Melly's room, stepping to the side of the bed. "Miss Amellyia, the Yankees are here. I can get you out, but we have to leave now. Can you put your arms around my neck?"

Melly nodded limply and handed the baby to Frannypat. Sookie gathered some quilts and clothes for them then went back downstairs to the buggy. As Rhetteric came onto the porch, Melly in his arms, Sookie was staring blankly at the wagon in front of her.

"I thought you were bringing the buggy," she said dumbly.

"The army commandeered my buggy. This wagon and mule were the only transportation I could find, and I had to steal them. Now put those quilts in the back to make a pad for Miss Amellyia." Sookie's body responded automatically to the leadership in his tone.

Rhetteric placed Melly in the wagon, helped Frannypat into the back next to her and swung Sookie up onto the seat. In an instant, he was next to her and driving the mule on.

**xxx**

It seemed that at every turn, they met danger. The army was retreating, leaving Shreveport to the Yankees, and everywhere were soldiers at the end of their rope. Exhausted, starved, and no longer above stealing, it took several swift blows from Rhetteric's fists to get the wagon past the straggles of soldiers and on the road out of town.

Finally, they reached a spot he deemed safe and they stopped to let the mule rest.

"Can you shoot a pistol, Dearest?"

Sookie found the question odd but answered, "Yes."

"Excellent. Take my pistol, and shoot anyone who tries to take the mule or wagon from you." He handed over a heavy pistol with an ornate handle.

"Why can't you shoot them?"

"Because, Dear One, I'm going to join the army."

"Join the army? Have you lost your mind? The army is retreating!" Sookie was aghast.

"They are retreating right now, yes, but they'll come back. 'Always retreat to a stronger defensive position' is one of the rules of war." He had the gall to wink at her.

"You can't be serious! I always thought you were one of the smart ones, staying out of a fight you don't believe in!"

"I may not believe in it, but I've never run from a fight - any fight. Besides, winning a fight you don't believe in makes victory all the sweeter. Speaking of sweet, come down here." He reached up and, grabbing her by the waist, pulled her from the wagon.

"Sookie, times like these make a man realize what is important in his life. I've chased you for months, waiting for you to get over your stupid Bashley. I'm tired of chasing you, Dearest; I want _you_ to want _me_. Now I see that it might take a bit more convincing." He leaned down and kissed her, his tongue seeking entrance to her mouth.

Sookie struggled briefly, but gave in to the feel of his arms around her and his talented mouth on hers. He kissed like he had been kissing for a thousand years, like he was made to kiss her. Finally, she relaxed into it and responded with passion.

After what seemed like both forever and an instant, he released her. Smirking down at her, he said, "That will give you something to think about while I'm gone." He reached into the wagon for his hat, placed it on his head, and turned to walk off back towards Shreveport. Sookie's anger hit her full on, and she stamped her foot.

"Rhetteric Northman! You are the vilest, meanest snake there is, and I hope you never come back!" she shouted.

Chuckling over his shoulder, he called, "But I will come back!" and disappeared into the darkness.

**xxx**

Somehow, Sookie managed to drive that poor mule home. They stuck to the not-so-well-known paths, to avoid traffic and situations where Sookie might have to use the pistol. Melly and the baby had long since passed out in the wagon bed, so the trip was quiet except for Frannypat's constant sniffling.

Finally they reached the O'Stackhouse plantation, Tara Thornton. In the grey gloom of the early morning hours, it appeared like a beacon to a ship - clearly weathered by the passage of time, but still standing. Sookie had never been so glad to see anything in her life. All she wanted was to get home and see her

Gran and let her carry the load for a while. She even looked forward to seeing her sisters, for they were part and parcel of home.

Sookie urged the exhausted mule the last quarter mile up the long drive. At the foot of the steps to the wide front porch, as if he knew his work was done, the mule collapsed. Sookie climbed awkwardly down from the wagon and ran up to the front door. Finding it locked, she knocked frantically.

A stranger opened the door. He had tousled red hair, bright blue eyes and a wiry build. His face showed the creased lines of someone who had spent most of his life working in the sun.

The man smiled kindly. "Can I help you, ma'am?"

Getting herself together, Sookie snapped, "Yes! You can tell me what you're doing in my home, and where my family is!"

The stranger's smiled broadened. "You must be Miss Sookie. I'm Sam Merlotte."

"Yes… I'm Sookie," she answered cautiously.

"Well, come on in Miss Sookie! Come sit a spell - you look right tired - and I'll tell you everything you want to know."

"There's a woman and an infant in the wagon, could you…?"

"'Course! Let me get 'em and I'll lay 'em down on the settee in the parlor." As Sam walked down the steps, Sookie could see he was missing a leg. A whittled wooden stump evened out his height and gave him mobility.

She wandered slowly into the foyer of her childhood home. Everything, everything was different. Bullet holes scarred the walls, as if someone had taken target practice inside the house. Bayonets had stabbed the furniture and stuffing spilled out of the wounds. The floor, which had always been polished to a high shine, was scuffed by boot marks making it dull and dingy. Paintings were missing from the walls, only bright rectangles left to show their absence. The biggest difference, however, was the complete silence that filled the air. No workers scuttled about, no sisters' voices rang through the halls, no Gran calling out instructions. It was as if it was a house of ghosts.

Sookie heard a _thump, thump, thump_ behind her and turned to see Sam carrying Melly in, Frannypat following him with the baby. He gently set Melly on the horsehair settee, the cleanest and most intact piece of furniture in the room, Melly never stirring. Sam thumped over and sat in an armchair. Sookie and Frannypat followed suit, sitting on the bedraggled loveseat.

"What happened here? Where is everyone? Gran? My sisters? Grandpa Fintan?" Sookie was becoming slightly hysterical.

Sam leaned forward and patted her arm in a reassuring way. "Don't you worry, Miss Sookie. Sit back and I'll tell you everything.

I lost my leg when a minie ball hit me in the Battle of Gettysburg. I managed to crawl to safety, and the hospital doctors took my leg. They could tell I wasn't no gentleman, so the few fake legs they had lyin' around didn't go to old Sam. No ma'am, I knew how to whittle so I was given wood and a knife, and I fitted m' own leg.

The army didn't have much use for a one legged farmer, so they sent me home. When I got back to Loosianna, though, I realized that maybe there wasn't no home for me to go back _to_. I saw lotsa places burned down and the ones still left standin' had seen a lotta wear and tear.

Seems a Union regiment was able to get down here and they had themselves a good 'ol time enjoying the finer things in life. I reckon them Yankees never seen the niceties some o' us had - not me, 'course, but your family n' others.

They tore up these fine houses n' all their nice things just outta spite, Miss Sookie. Camped out, house by house, until they'd drunk all the licker and ate all the vittles, then they'd move on to the next. I seen several o' these type places by the time I got to Tara Thornton. Say, why's it called that, anyways?"

"Tara is the name of thehome of the Irish kings, and Thornton was a name on my grandmother's side of the family. Grandpa Fintan named it Tara to remember his homeland, and when he met Gran he added her family name in honor of his new bride," Sookie answered numbly.

"Oh, I just wondered. Anyway, I got down here to Tara Thornton and things was in a bad way. Your sisters'd come down with typhoid and your Gran was nursin' 'em. We was plumb wore out from fetching water up and down the stairs, tryin' to keep 'em cool. 'Bout the time your sisters' fever broke, your Gran come down with it. I did the best I could nursin' her, Miss Sookie, but I'm sorry to say she didn't make it." Sam looked sorrowfully at Sookie.

"Gran's _dead_? It can't be… it can't be!" Sookie cried.

"That's not all of it, Miss Sookie. Seems like when your Gran passed, your granddad just couldn't cope with life alone. His mind caved under the grievin'. He ain't - well, he just ain't right. Most of the time he thinks your Gran is still alive, and he thinks he sees fairies everywhere. I've about worn down m' leg chasin' him around the fields after fairies."

"Oh, my God!" Sookie cried. "Please tell me that's everything!"

"Yes'm. Well, 'cept for the fact that we ain't got much food, and the only money I can find is in Confederate dollars, which ain't worth much these days."

"I can't… I can't think about this now. I'll think about it tomorrow," Sookie decided. "Sam, can you carry Miss Melly up to a bedroom? We need to rest."

"Yes'm, I'd be glad to. Miss, if you'll come with me and bring the baby, we'll find a room for you, too," he said to Frannypat.

Sookie slowly climbed the stairs to her childhood bedroom and wearily undressed. Once she heard Sam get Melly and Frannypat settled, she went in her nightgown to check on her sisters. The two lay in the same bed, looking thin and pale. They tossed and turned, mumbling in their sleep. Wearily, Sookie closed her eyes for a moment, mourning all she had lost. Her Gran, her bright, animated sisters, her sweet Grandpa and her beloved home, all desecrated and diminished, if not gone entirely.

She went back to her room and lay on the bed, waiting for sleep to take her. She would think about it tomorrow.

**xxx**

The next morning, Sookie woke to her new reality. Her touchstone, Gran, was gone, and Fintan was indeed lost without her. He patted Sookie's hand vaguely and kept staring out the window at imaginary fairies. Melly was awake but very weak, and the baby needed milk. Luckily, Sam had managed to locate a cow, so at least one person in the house was fed. Frannypat was quickly getting on Sookie's nerves, so she put her to work nursing Thalia and Felicia.

As for Sam, he was a godsend. He seemed to be a jack-of-all trades - he could farm, cook, do washing, even a bit of mending and had the patience of Job. As the weeks went by, Sookie came to depend on him more and more, although he deferred to her as the head of the house. There seemed to be no question Sam had no answer for; no problem he didn't have a solution to. He was steady, quiet, dependable and utterly irreplaceable.

Between them, Sookie and Sam fed and clothed the family, sold their meager wares and tried to get Tara Thornton and its inhabitants back on their feet. Side by side they worked, Sookie doing tasks she never thought she'd do. But when the choice was starvation or hard work, well, she was an O'Stackhouse, and they weren't afraid of a little hard work. It changed her, though, hardened her. The rest of the household watched as she lost her curves and became thin. Her patience thinned as well, and her temper was quick to flare.

Gradually Thalia and Felicia got back to health and Sookie assigned Felicia to watch over the baby. Melly christened him William Bashley Compton, but everyone called him Billy. Thalia and Frannypat were recruited to work the fields with Sookie and Sam, but Frannypat screamed every time she saw any kind of insect so she got elected to take care of the housework. That way, if she complained and fussed, only Felicia and Melly heard her.

Thalia was just as vocal in her complaints about fieldwork, but eventually the three of them got into a rhythm. Their productivity increased and they had more crops to sell. Thalia kept up her complaints about work damaging her "ladylike hands," though, saying her long-time beau Alcide Herveaux would not care to see his intended having rough hands. After a number of complaints and a sharp slap to the cheek from Sookie, Thalia finally quieted down altogether. Through it all, Sam said nothing, just provided a solid shoulder for Sookie to lean upon.

**xxx**

Months passed and the household settled into something of a routine. There was still no word from Bashley, but at least Melly was well enough to chase after Fintan during the day. Her presence seemed to calm him; he saw the fairies less when she was around. Billy seemed to be thriving, despite his rough start in life, and his little face cheered the household immensely.

Sookie and Melly were sitting on the porch one evening shelling peas when a figure appeared at the end of the long drive. Knowing that Sam was out in the pasture, Sookie grabbed the pistol from the folds of her dress, where she kept it whenever the ladies were alone. She started to raise the pistol when Amellyia suddenly threw down her bowl and took off running.

The figure got a little closer, and Sookie's breath caught in her throat. It was Bashley! Ragged, bearded, and thin, but still dear, sweet Bashley! She started to run down the drive herself when a hand caught her from behind. The clear blue eyes of Fintan gazed at her knowingly.

Sookie tried to escape his grip but he held firm. "Turn me loose! It's Bashley!" she cried.

"He's her husband, isn't he?" Fintan asked, a rare look of understanding and pity in his eyes.

**xxx**

Having Bashley home was both a blessing and a curse. It was wonderful to be able to see him and listen to his cool voice as he read aloud in the evenings, but it was awful to have him so close yet be unable to flirt with him as Sookie wished. Also, Bashley was, quite poor at farming. He tried, but most of his efforts came to naught. Sam worked patiently with him, but finally put him to work doing manual labor around the plantation.

After a particularly nasty spat with Thalia one morning, Sookie needed solace and sought out the person whose presence always calmed her. She found Bashley at the far end of the plantation, attempting** to **split logs.

"Sookie, what a lovely surprise! Tell me, what brings you down here this morning? Come to see for yourself what a poor handyman I am?" Bashley joked.

Sookie flounced down onto a tree stump. "Oh Bashley, I could just spit! Thalia makes me so frustrated!"

Bashley smiled kindly. "The one thing I learned from the war, Sookie, is to value your humanity - and that includes your family. You've taken on a heavy load, and I'm not unaware that my family and I add to your burden."

"You could never be a burden, Bashley! I'm so happy you're home!" she cried.

"This isn't my home, sweetheart, it's yours. I no longer knowwheremy home is, but I expect I will find it eventually."

"You - you aren't leaving, are you?" Sookie jumped up from the tree stump in fear.

"Sweetheart, it's so hard to be here, near to everything I used to hold dear, and yet not have it!"

"Do… do you mean me?" she asked, hopefully.

"Well, actually, I was referring to my now-ruined ancestral home, but yes, sweetheart, you too."

"Oh Bashley, promise me you won't leave! I couldn't bear it!" She threw herself into his arms.

"There now, sweetheart, hush," he replied, patting her back awkwardly. Sookie found herself finally in his arms and decided to seize her chance. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. He responded for a moment then she felt his whole body stiffen as he pushed her away.

"No, sweetheart, I won't steal your humanity! I will not take from you what Ilack** - **your zest for life!"

Sookie was puzzled by the _non sequitur_, but then she was used to puzzling over things Bashley said. "Uh, huh?"

"You have so much fire, such passion! I must treat you as the lady you are. Forgive me, please!" He dropped his axe, just missing her foot, and ran off towards the house.

"_Well, crap_," Sookie thought. "_It looks like I will have to live off that kiss for a long time._"

**xxx**

One typical Wednesday, the household was thrown into something of a tumult when the mail arrived. Mail was such a rare occurrence that it was always an excitement, but this particular mail run brought trouble in its wake. A bill arrived, for the taxes due on Tara Thornton. When the Yankee government took control of the area, property taxes had gone sky high in an attempt to force landowners to vacate and allow Yankees to purchase homes for far less than their worth.

Sookie was beside herself with worry. Food was still scarce, she had a household of eight adults and an infant to clothe, and they had very little cash - certainly not enough to pay those taxes. Sookie, Bashley and Sam tried to think of ways to raise cash, with very little success. However, a glimmer of hope arrived in an unexpected form.

Alcide Herveaux, Southern gentleman, merchant and suitor of Thalia, arrived from Shreveport for a visit with his sweetheart. After a meal one evening, as they sat around and traded news and gossip, Alcide mentioned in passing that Rhetteric Northman was back in town. By 'back in town,' Alcide meant 'in jail.' The ladies were, of course, aghast to hear this.

"Jail?" Sookie gasped. "What for?"

"A Yankee officer was visiting a… gentlemen's establishment that he is apparently part owner in and got quite out of hand after an evening of drinking. The officer started to raise his hand to the, er, lady of the house and Mr. Northman got quite irate. Witnesses said he looked just like a Viking when he went after the man - broke the officer's nose before the bouncer could separate them. I heard Mr. Northman told the officer that the woman in question, Miss Pamela Ravenscroft, may be a lady of the night, but he would still have her treated as a lady.

The Yankees aren't taking any insults these days, so Mr. Northman was arrested and is being held in the jail. A messy, messy business if you ask me," said Alcide. "I respect that he stood up for a woman, but if he hadn't been involved in such an unseemly enterprise in the first place this never would have happened," he fussed. Although Alcide wasn't yet thirty, Sookie still thought of him as an old man sometimes - fussy, huffy and very old maid-ish in his sensibilities.

Sookie gritted her teeth. "It seems to me that any business that can make money these days is worth investing in," she said. The rest of the household looked shocked.

"Sookie, you can't mean that," said Melly.

"I do. Everyone has to make their own way in the world these days; there are no handouts. If I had any money to invest, I'd invest it in a saloon or gentlemen's club myself."

"My, my, my," said Alcide. "It's a sorry state for the world when a lady such as yourself, Miss Sookie, has such masculine business ideas."

"I haven't got time to worry about such things," Sookie replied, "I have a tax bill to pay."

Alcide felt bad as she said this, since he had enough set by to have loaned her the money. He probably should, seeing as Sookie would be his sister-in-law soon, and it _was_ his intended's family homestead. But he'd wanted to marry Thalia for so long, and he was saving up enough to put a down payment on a

house for them. He just didn't feel right about asking a woman to marry him and then move into his mother's house.

While Alcide was mulling over this dilemma, a little idea was planting itself in Sookie's brain. Rhetteric had money, and he had nowhere to spend it while he was in jail. Why not give it to her? She knew he was enamored with her, and she was pretty sure that with a little coaxing she could get him to propose - or at the very least, front her a loan. But, what to wear? Rhetteric was always up on the latest fashions, and he always liked to see a lady looking nice.

Sookie thought over all the available fabric in the house. She ran up **to **the attic to fetch the trunk of dress patterns and began digging through them. She found a pattern that was fairly new - with a few alterations it could be updated. As she was digging, Melly came up to join her.

"What are you looking for, dear? Melly asked.

"I need a new dress," Sookie replied. "I'm going in to Shreveport to get a loan, and I have to go looking nice, not wearing the rags we wear around here."

"But who in Shreveport could afford to give you a loan?"

"Never you mind about that," Sookie responded. "Just help me find some fabric and get this dress put together."

Melly's mind began to piece together what was happening. The conversation with Alcide, the mention of Rhetteric, Sookie looking to get a new dress… Melly firmly pushed aside her own feelings about the morality of Sookie's plan and thought about how Sookie had stayed with her while she was in labor. Sookie had delivered her son, put food in her mouth and clothes on her back. No, Melly wouldn't think too hard about details - what Sookie wanted, Melly would help her get.

"You know, dear, I have a lovely quilt in my bedroom that we brought from Shreveport. It has shades of blue in it that would look wonderful with your eyes, and I think it might make a fetching dress," Melly said slowly.

"Really? Oh, Melly, that would be wonderful!" Sookie jumped up and hugged her.

"We could take that blue afghan your Gran knitted and make you a nice shawl to wear over it, too."

"Melly, that's a wonderful idea!"

**xxx**

Work began on the dress in earnest. While Sookie continued her work around the plantation, Melly - who was the better seamstress - worked painstakingly to sew Sookie the prettiest dress ever made from a quilt. As she suggested, the afghan was put into use as a shawl. Buttons and lengths of ribbon were scavenged from all over the plantation to add to Sookie's dress.

Sitting in the parlor, Sam whittled while Bashley read. An unusual friendship had developed between the poor farmer's son and the learned gentleman. Hearing Sookie's footsteps run back upstairs to search for more thread, a look passed between them.

"I don't like this goin' to Shreveport plan a'tall," Sam said.

"Agreed."

"No good will come of it," Sam stated.

"I concur, but what alternatives do we have?" Bashley hated the thought of his sweet Sookie, whose spirit and vivacity he so admired having dealings with a brute such as Northman. He had met him only a few times, but the tall blonde man was no gentleman, Bashley was sure.

The two men exchanged another glance, one that said there were no alternatives. Both went back to their pastimes, and neither was happy.

**xxx**

It felt wonderful to be back in Shreveport after being in the country for so long. All the hustle and bustle was a balm on Sookie's soul as she made her way to the jail.

When she arrived, she was a bit startled when the Yankee captain in charge, a man with an eye patch and a slight English accent, asked who she was and how she was related to Rhetteric - only family could visit prisoners.

"Um… I'm his… sister," she choked out. The other men in the room exchanged glances and chuckled.

"His sister, eh? Northman sure does have a lot of sisters," the Captain said. "Although, I'm sorry ma'am, he's said he doesn't want to receive any more visitors."

Sookie's heart clutched in fear. "Could you please just tell him Sookie is here?" she begged.

"Alright, I'll tell him… seems like I do nothing these days but act like Northman's butler," he grumbled. She heard him walk towards the back and announce, "Northman! You've got another visitor!"

"I thought I told you I don't want any more visitors, Twining," came Rhetteric's response.

"Says to tell you her name's Cookie, or something like that. I can't keep track…"

"Sookie?" Rhetteric's voice perked up.

"Yeah, Sookie. Strange name," Captain Twining muttered.

"Ye Gods, Twining, bring her in here! You can't leave a lady like that out in the front with those hooligans!" Rhetteric commanded.

In short order, Sookie was standing in Rhetteric's jail cell, a converted stable. He rushed across the small space and took her in with a glance.

"Sookie! My very dear little _sister_!" he leered.

Sookie looked up at him through her lashes. "How de do, Rhetteric," she purred. "I'm ever so glad to see you, although I'm sorry it's under these circumstances." She let her hand trail down his arm lightly.

"_Are_ you glad to see me, Dear One? Last time I saw you, you called me every name under the sun and hoped I met the business end of a stake," he grinned.

"Oh Rhetteric, don't be silly! Of course I am glad to see you, and you are looking so well!" And he was. Somehow, he could even make being imprisoned in a stable look sexy.

"As are you, my dear. What a lovely frock! And out of such… _interesting_ fabric!"

"Well, new cloth is so hard to come by these days, and I did always love this quilt pattern…" Sookie let her hands smooth down the fabric of her frock. "It's a wedding ring pattern, you know."

"Is it indeed?" He stepped closer to her and his eyes glowed as he stared down at her. "And are you… entertaining matrimony again?" His face was intense as he waited for her answer.

"As if I could, Rhetteric! You know that kiss you gave me has ruined me for other men," she teased.

"I see," he said slowly. "You remember it well, do you?" She nodded. "Then this one will have to work hard to top it," and he bent and kissed her swiftly.

Sookie felt a little weak in the knees by the time he let her up for air. There was something about his kisses that left her feeling like the Earth had shifted, somehow.

"My Sookie…" he purred, as he held her and stroked her back gently. "You are well? You have everything you need?"

"Oh yes, things are very well," she whispered against his hard chest.

"I am glad to hear it." He continued stroking her back, and gave her neck little nips with his teeth.

It was so hard to think straight! But she remembered her purpose - she had to save Tara Thornton! "Well, there is one thing I could use…"

His arm hardened against her back as he took her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. "I see. And what might that be?"

Suddenly, everything came out in a rush. "IneedthemoneytopaythetaxesonTaraThornton," she blurted. Oh, that was _so_ not how she wanted to ask!

"And you come here, all dressed in your best _quilt_, and pretend feelings you don't have to get it? There's a name for women who do that, Sookie," he said, his voice hard.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Rhetteric, but I'm desperate! I don't know who else to ask!" she cried, tears seeping from her eyes.

"Save the tears, they will get you nothing," he growled. "I couldn't loan you the money even if I wanted to - the Yankees are after it, and if I tried to get any money out at all, they would take it faster than a Shifter changes at the full moon."

"A… wha…?" Sookie was lost.

He sighed. "Never mind. The point is I can't help you, Sookie. If I had the funds available, I might have given them to you had you asked me directly. But not now, not like this." He shook his head.

The very air seemed to leak out of the room. Everything began spinning. Sookie was so angry she tried to slap him, but as he deftly caught her hand, her legs gave out and she fainted in his arms. When she came to, her head was nestled on a very warm, very hard pillow. She began to take in her surroundings and realized her head was in Rhetteric's lap. His face was pale and worried above her.

"Sookie? Are you alright?" His voice was panicked. Her anger flooded back and she jumped up from the floor. Flouncing her afghan/shawl around her, she spat, "Don't you worry about _me_, Rhetteric Northman! I never want to see you again!" as she swept out of the room.

She fled the jail and began hurrying down the street. As she passed one of the new shops, she heard a voice behind her. "Miss Sookie?"

She turned, and found Alcide Herveaux standing outside of 'Herveaux's Emptorium.' So this was the store Alcide had been prattling on about! It seemed to be doing a brisk business. Hmm…

"Alcide! Oh, I'm so glad to see you!" She rushed over and took his hands.

"It's good to see you as well, Miss Sookie! Tell me, how is everyone at Tara Thornton? Well, I trust?"

A little fibbing didn't count if it was for the greater good, surely. "Oh, Alcide, I see you don't know…"

"Know what, Miss Sookie? Miss Thalia, is she unwell?" His prissy face looked worried.

"Oh, Alcide, it's just that… it seems Thalia thought you were never going to marry her, and she joined a convent to escape being an old maid! Oh, I am so sorry to bring you bad news. And from my own sister!

"Oh, my, my, my." Alcide looked shocked. Sookie pulled her shawl around her and faked a chill. This seemed to remind him of his gentlemanly duty.

"You're cold. Here, come in to my store and warm yourself," Alcide offered.

**xxx**

Months later, Sookie was again sitting on the front porch of the home she had shared with Frannypat and Amellyia staring sadly at her hands, when none other than Rhetteric Northman rode up.

She hadn't seen him since that day in the jail, although she heard he had been released thanks to some influential politician friends. She knew he had probably heard about her marriage to Alcide, and his all black attire informed her that he knew of Alcide's death.

"My dear Mrs. Herveaux. My very dear Mrs. Herveaux," he kissed her hand and looked up at her, grinning.

"Oh, stop. You don't have to play the grieving caller," she snapped, snatching her hand away. Tears spilled from the corners of her eyes. He sat on the swing next to her and wiped her tears away with his thumb.

"What's wrong, Dearest?" he asked, in the gentlest voice she'd ever heard him use. "Surely you aren't grieving the loss of old Alcide this much?"

"Oh, Rhetteric! It's all my fault!" she wailed. "I tricked him into marrying me when I knew he loved Thalia, and I made him give me the money to save Tara Thornton. I forced him to move in here when I knew he didn't want to leave his mother and then I was so mean to him! But he was just so, so… old maid-ish! He fussed constantly! And then I drove him to his death!"

"Shh, shh…" he soothed. "How did you drive him to his death, Dear One?"

"By making him loan money to that evil woman, Lorena! He didn't want to, as she wanted to open a saloon with it, but I made him because of the interest we could earn. The whole town knows what she's like, mean as a snake! Then when she missed a payment, he went to collect from her and she shot him! Oh, I killed him as surely as if I pulled the trigger myself!" Sookie gave over entirely to the sobs that racked her body. Rhetteric merely patted her back until she calmed down, then handed her a handkerchief.

"Listen to me, little one, you didn't make Alcide do anything he didn't want to do. So you fibbed about your sister, so what? She should've been woman enough to get her man to marry her long ago, and if she didn't, well, her loss I say. No woman has ever made a man do anything he really didn't want to, especially concerning money. If Alcide couldn't see a good business opportunity for himself, then he wasn't much of a businessman. Any man that loans money to a woman famous for being a gambling addict and hustler but doesn't think she might be armed when he goes to collect a debt is not much of a man. Dry your tears, Sookie. You just did what you had to do to survive."

She hiccupped. "You really think so?"

"I do. But I didn't come here for you to confess your sins to me, as entertaining as it's been, and I certainly didn't come here to talk about Alcide Herveaux."

"Oh, well then, why did you come?" she asked.

He rose from the swing and fell to one knee, taking her hands in his. "My dear Sookie, I have come here to ask you to marry me," he said with mock _gravitas_.

She burst out laughing. "Oh, do stop joking! And get up, before someone sees you!"

"I assure you, I am not joking. I want to marry you, Sookie. I've loved you since the moment I met you, and I've never loved any woman. I've waited for you, too, and I never wait for anything."

"I can't! Alcide just died, I'm in mourning…" her voice trailed off.

"Marry me, Sookie. I can't go all my life waiting to catch you between husbands. I can make you happy - we're alike, both selfish and shrewd. Marry me," he urged, and raised his lips to hers in the sweetest, most passionate kiss Sookie had ever received. Each time he let her up for air she would try to protest, but he would just kiss her again and again, until finally her head was spinning and she couldn't think of anything other than him.

"Yes… yes, I will marry you," she whispered. He grinned broadly, kissed her again swiftly, and stood to leave.

"Where - where are you going?" she asked.

"To buy you a ring," he replied. As he settled into the saddle, she called, "Rhetteric! Make it a great big one!"

"Don't worry, Dear One, everything I own is big," he winked and rode off.

**xxx**

They married quickly and quietly in a small, private ceremony. Shreveport society was appalled, but neither Sookie nor Rhetteric cared. He took her on a riverboat cruise to New Orleans for their honeymoon, and she delighted in the culinary treats found in the high-end restaurants there. After so long of only having what was grown on Tara Thornton, the inventive entrees and sinful desserts delighted her palate.

She wired money to Sam first thing, to make updates to Tara Thornton. His response to the news of her marriage was a laconic letter stating his congratulations and that he hoped she knew what she was doing. He'd said pretty much the same thing when she married Alcide, so she didn't pay much attention.

Thalia had decided, upon insult of being snubbed by Alcide for her sister, to join a convent. It was an ironic choice, given that was exactly the story Sookie had given Alcide to make him forget about marrying Thalia. Again, Sookie didn't pay much attention - she had fully adopted Rhetteric's declaration that it was Thalia's own fault for not tying Alcide down sooner.

Bashley and Melly decided to move back to Shreveport for Bashley to find employment. It was for the best, since Bashley had never been cut out to be a farmer. In truth, Sam was the driving force behind Tara Thornton's continuing survival, and Bashley knew it.

With that news, Sam realized he would be alone on the plantation with Felicia. As neither were married or related, this was inappropriate. To keep from ruining Felicia's reputation and be able to stay on at Tara Thornton, Sam wrote to Sookie asking for Felicia's hand in marriage. She gave her blessing, and the two married in a quiet ceremony. Sam wasn't altogether unhappy with the developments; although he had always had a soft spot for Sookie, he knew he could never attain her. Felicia's quiet personality meshed well with Sam's reticence, so they got along well.

With most of the people she cared about happy or at least content, and knowing Tara Thornton was safe and thriving, Sookie focused on her own life. Her honeymoon with Rhetteric lasted almost a month and was the happiest time of Sookie's life. He spoiled her with clothes, shoes and jewelry, and for the first time in her life she was with someone who truly understood her and let her have free rein to give in to her impulses.

He was also the first man to really show her the joys of married life. Quinn had been no husband at all to her, Alcide a poor excuse as well. Rhetteric unlocked her from the cage of Southern propriety and set her free to be a woman. Most mornings Sookie woke and blushed, thinking back on the events of the previous night, but she enjoyed her life. Rhetteric was very affectionate with her, caressing her and showering her with kisses, and she found she quite liked it.

Upon their return to Shreveport, they set about building a house to live in - not just any house, but the most opulent house in town. Only the best would suit Sookie - the richest tapestries, the thickest carpets. Rhetteric just laughed as she plotted, planned and designed, and said as long as he had a bed his feet didn't dangle off of, he didn't care what she did. She made sure to honor his request, having a bed specially built, the biggest any of them had ever seen.

Once the house was complete, Sookie found herself at loose ends. She had no plantation to run, nothing to do and no friends. She had alienated most of polite society when she stole Alcide from her sister, then compounded the situation by marrying Rhetteric so quickly. She was also concerned over Bashley's difficulty in finding a job. Shreveport was a busy industrial town, and there weren't many jobs available for a gentleman with a classical education. In desperation, he and Amellyia began talking about moving up North, where there were more intellectual jobs available.

This sent Sookie into a panic. She found a lumber mill for sale and persuaded Rhetteric to loan her the money to buy it, got it up and running again, then instated Bashley as the foreman. Melly was thrilled as this meant they could stay in Shreveport near their family and friends, but Rhetteric was displeased. When he found out that Sookie wanted the mill not to keep her busy but to keep Bashley nearby, he was not only angry but hurt. He had hoped since their marriage was going so well, Sookie was getting over Bashley and even perhaps falling in love with him. He was proud of having a smart, entrepreneurial wife, but didn't especially like when those qualities were put to use for another man's good.

After a while, things settled down and the couple got back into their routine. Sookie only visited the lumber mill twice a week, rather than every day, which allowed her to see Bashley but appeased Rhetteric at the same time. Everything went quite well until the afternoon of Bashley's surprise birthday party. Melly specifically requested that Sookie visit the mill in order to keep Bashley there until it was party time, a request Sookie was happy to fulfill.

"Sookie my dear, what a pleasure to see you this afternoon! Don't you look lovely! Is that a new frock?" Bashley asked.

"Why, yes it is! I am so glad you approve!" Sookie responded with a twinkle in her eye.

"Tell me, how long must I stay here until I'm allowed to go home?" Bashley questioned with an answering twinkle.

"Why Bashley Compton, you _know_! Who told you?"

"Just about every man who's ever had a party thrown for him," he chuckled.

"Well, no matter. We can spend the time chatting. It's so exciting to be going to a party again. Remember the lovely old days, with the barbecues and parties?" Sookie reminisced.

"Oh Sookie, let us not talk about the old days!" Bashley cried, his voice full of angst and his man-bangs in his eyes. "The days of grace and elegance, when ladies wore long skirts and petticoats! Oh, I miss them so!"

Sookie was confused. "But Bashley, women still wear petticoats. I'm wearing one right now."

He continued as if she hadn't spoken. "The days of beauty, of parties and balls and ladies covering their ankles!"

Sookie was still lost, but seeing that Bashley was starting to cry, she moved to comfort him. "There, there darling! We'll see those days again!" She hugged him and drew his head onto her shoulder. He blubbered there for a moment, until behind them the door to the mill office opened and Frannypat stood there, her mouth hanging open in shock.

**xxx**

Thanks to Frannypat running off screaming, then blabbing the juicy news to anyone who would listen, the gossip moved across town quickly. After Frannypat left, Sookie had pushed Bashley, still sniffling, off her shoulder and rushed home. She hurried into the bedroom and flung herself upon the giant bed.

A few hours later, she heard the front door open downstairs and Rhetteric's lithe footsteps climbing the wide staircase. The door to the bedroom flew open, and it seemed to Sookie that he filled the doorway.

"Why my dear wife, I'm surprised to see you are not yet dressed for the party," he purred darkly.

"Rhetteric, I don't think I will go - I… I have a headache. Please make my excuses to Melly, won't you?" Sookie stuttered.

He crossed the room in two long strides and yanked her off the bed roughly. "Get up!" he snarled. "You are going to that party." He pulled her across the room to her closet and pulled out her most daring dress, a scarlet red number.

"This is appropriate, I think," he growled. "A scarlet dress for a scarlet woman." He began tugging on the laces of the gown she was wearing.

"I can't, I-"

"You are many things, Sookie, but I never figured you for a coward," he spat. "Now change. You are going to that party if it's the last thing you do. I won't have you shaming Miss Amellyia like that. And I, dear one, get to go and be the cuckolded husband, standing by his wife while the whole town watches. If I can stand it, you can, too."

An hour later, they stood in the foyer of the Compton's small home. The room went silent as people took in their arrival. From across the room came a quiet rustling, and the crowd of people parted as Amellyia made her way towards them. Sookie stiffened, expecting the worst, but Melly came towards them and reached out her hands.

"Sookie, Frannypat wasn't able to come this evening. Will you be a dear and help me greet our guests?"

A quiet hush went through the room as Melly linked arms with Sookie and the two women, wronged wife and alleged adulteress, greeted people at Bashley Compton's birthday party.

**xxx**

After escaping the nightmarish party, Rhetteric had their carriage drop Sookie at their house, then left without a word. Sookie slowly dragged herself upstairs and undressed. She collapsed on the bed for a while, thinking over the evening. When the stress got too much for her, she decided she knew exactly what would help.

Pulling her wrapper on over her silk nightgown, she slipped down the grand staircase towards the dining room. She hadn't heard Rhetteric return, so she thought she was safe. She realized too late that she was wrong.

His blonde head glinted from his seat in the far back of the room at the end of the massive table. His jacket was off, and his tie askew. His always-immaculate hair was loose and looked disheveled.

"Ah, my dear wife. Come down for your nightly gin and tonic, did you?" His voice was slurred, but the contempt in his tone was palpable.

"I don't know what you mean. I heard a noise, and-"

"You heard nothing. After this evening, I don't doubt you need a drink. Don't look so shocked, Sookie. I know you like a gin and tonic every once in a while. Do you think I care if my wife likes a drink?" He stood and staggered over to the massive sidebar, pouring her drink sloppily. He pushed it across the table at her and without thinking, she bolted it in one shot, only realizing when the corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk how badly it looked.

"Now, it is customary after attending a gala for a couple to discuss the evening, is it not?" He sat down heavily in the chair across from her.

"I do not wish-"

"Oh, but I wish. Quite the performance, was it not? The entire cast was there: the cuckolded husband, standing by his cheating wife. The man of the hour, looking as if he wished to be anywhere but where he was, and the wronged wife using her gentle ways and impeccable reputation to cast a spell and smooth everything over. How does it feel, having the woman you wronged stand up for you?" he snarled.

"Rhetteric, I know you think you know what happened, but I swear it was totally innocent! We were just talking about the past and Bashley got upset. I was just comforting him as a friend!" Sookie cried.

"A friend, eh? In that case, shall I go and 'comfort' my friend Pamela Ravenscroft in the same manner? Would you sit by and swallow that?"

"If you are going to be insulting, I'm going to bed. Goodnight!" Sookie leapt from her chair and headed towards the stairs. Faster than she could see, he was in front of her, his arms gripping her like iron bands.

"Oh, no you don't. Do you think I don't know you've lain in bed with me, wishing I were Bashley? That my kisses were his kisses? That I didn't feel his ghost in bed with us?" He crashed his mouth to hers roughly. "For too long there have been too many in my bed. Tonight, there will only be the two of us!" He swung her up and carried her swiftly up the stairs.

**xxx**

The next morning, Sookie woke up in a blissful mood. The previous night had been the most exciting of her entire life. She felt like she'd been plundered by a Viking raider, and she loved every minute of it. She rolled over in bed and threw an arm out, searching for Rhetteric and finding… nothing. He was gone.

She waited for him to come home, angry that he had left her no note, no explanation - and waited, and waited. Her anger turned to irritation, then worry, and finally to panic as the days passed.

Across town, Pamela Ravenscroft lifted Rhetteric's head by his long blonde hair where it was slumped on her table.

"Are you alive? Or have you pickled yet?" Her tone was casual, but her eyes were worried. She'd never seen Rhetteric like this before - he never showed his liquor. And all over that stupid belle! It may have been her livelihood to cater to them, but as long as she lived, she would never understand men.

"I'm 'live, Pam," he slurred.

"Don't you think you ought to go home? It's been a week. Or are you planning on making this your permanent residence? If so, I'll let the post office know to forward your mail."

"Can't go home, Pam. I did something terrible!"

Pam was intrigued - this was the first he had said of why he was at her establishment, drinking his liver away. "What did you do?"

"I… I wanted to hurt her, as she'd hurt me, and I said terrible things. Then I… forced myself on her!" His head thumped back onto the tabletop as Pam snorted.

"_That's_ what's been bothering you? Rhetteric, there are women who would line up for your attentions! I'd wager she sees it a bit differently. You probably gave her the night of her life!"

Bloodshot blue eyes peered up at her from over his cradled arms. "You really think so?" he asked hopefully.

'Yes." She sighed. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but clean yourself up and go home to your wife. You don't belong here."

Several hours later a bathed, shaved and neatly dressed Rhetteric strolled casually through his front door as if he'd only been gone an hour. Sookie heard him come in and met him anxiously at the top of the stairs.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Northman," he greeted coolly, tossing his hat on the table in the foyer.

"Good afternoon? Is that all you have to say to me?" she cried as he slowly started up the stairs.

"Why Dearest, have you been missing me?" he asked with a hint of twinkle in his eye.

"Missing you? I've been out of my mind with worry!" she yelled. His heart in this throat, he sped to the top of the stairs.

"Really? Oh, Sookie, I-" he began, but she interrupted.

"Don't you 'oh, Sookie' me! I've been going crazy with worry and you've been God-knows-where! Probably with that Ravenscroft creature! If you think you can just waltz in here like nothing happened, Rhetteric Northman, you've got another think coming!" She spun on her heel to leave, and several things happened at once. He reached out to stop her, her heel twisted and she flailed uselessly for the newel post. Just out of his grasp, in front of his horrified eyes, down the giant staircase she tumbled, over and over until she reached the bottom.

**xxx**

Dr. Ludwig finished examining Sookie and shook her head. "Delirious, but she should recover. If there's any change, send for me at once. I'll check on her again tomorrow," she instructed Amellyia. As she left the room, she paused in front of the door across the hall. "And check on that one," she said, and Melly nodded.

Melly crossed the hall and tentatively opened the door. Rhetteric was inside, head in hands, surrounded by empty bottles and plates of untouched food. Melly sat next to him and took his hand.

"She's dead?"

"Oh no, she's alive. Dr. Ludwig says she will recover. You must take care of yourself, she will need you," Melly replied.

Rhetteric grimaced. "She's never needed me, just my money. All I ever wanted was for her to love me, but she doesn't."

"You're so wrong! Sookie does love you, very much."

"If you only knew who she really loved-"

"I don't listen to gossip, neither should you. I know her, and she loves _you_. It's you she always turns to," Melly replied.

"But I hurt her…"

"It was an accident, everyone knows you would never hurt Sookie. Dr. Ludwig said there was no permanent damage. She'll be fine - you'll even be able to have babies someday. I'm going to," she shyly confessed.

"Miss Melly, no! You mustn't risk it!" Rhetteric cried.

"It's what I want," she said simply. "Now, I'll have the cook bring you some hot food, and you clean yourself up. I'm going to go home to rest a bit, I want to see you looking better when I return," she smiled.

Rhetteric nodded. "Yes, you rest. I'll listen out for Sookie, in case she calls for me," he added hopefully.

Melly left and Rhetteric stepped into his bathroom, one ear cocked for Sookie's voice.

Across the hall, in a small, weak voice Sookie cried, "Rhetteric… I want Rhetteric!" But she was too weak, and he never heard her.

**xxx**

Weeks went by as Sookie recovered. On the day Sookie finally got out of bed, Melly collapsed as she was heading home. She was taken to her house, where Dr. Ludwig advised Bashley that she was miscarrying and that it would take Melly's life as well.

Rhetteric helped Sookie dress. Silently they went to see Amellyia for the last time. Bashley was a wreck when they arrived. He ushered Sookie into the bedroom, sobbing.

Sookie took Melly's hand. "You've got to get better, Melly, we need you. _I_ need you!" she cried.

"I'm not as strong as you are, dear. You'll be fine. Your husband is a good man, and he loves you," she whispered, then slipped away. Bashley rushed into the room sobbing. He and Sookie embraced, trying to comfort each other. Rhetteric watched from the doorway, his face a blank mask.

As Bashley sobbed about how much he loved Melly and would give his life for her, Sookie's mind wandered.

'_What's left?'_ she thought. _'Gran and Melly are gone._ _Bashley is, well, useless. I have no one to turn to… except Rhetteric! He's always been there for me, even when I didn't realize I needed him! Sweet Shepherd of Judea, I love him!' _The realization hit her like a thunderbolt. She passed Bashley off to Frannypat and ran out in search of Rhetteric.

But… he was gone. In a panic, Sookie ignored the buggy and ran the two blocks to their home, heedless of her aching body. As she reached the door, it opened. Rhetteric stood there with a suitcase in his hand.

"Where - where are you going?" she cried.

"I'm leaving you, Dearest. This should make things nice and neat, seeing as Bashley is free now," he coolly replied.

"Leaving me? You can't! But… I love you!"

"Just figured that out, did you? Well, it's too late, Sookie. If you had ever given me the slightest hint that you cared for me, I'd stay. I would've done anything for you. When you were ill, I prayed for you to call for me, over and over. But you didn't - and now, it's simply too late."

"But I did! I did call for you and you never came!"

"It seems we have been at cross purposes then, doesn't it, Dear One?" He started down the walk.

"But Rhetteric, if you leave, where shall I go, what shall I do?" she pleaded.

"Uppriktig, min raring, Jag icke gör det ger en förbanna." He turned and walked off into the dusk.

Sookie collapsed on the step, sobbing. "What will I do now?" she wept. As if in response, she heard the voices of Fintan, Bashley and Rhetteric in her mind, all saying one thing, "Tara Thornton!"

"Home… I'll go home," she decided, wiping her tears. "After all, tomorrow is another day!"

(fade to black)

Sookie woke with a start and sat bolt upright in bed. She had just had the strangest dream… she and Eric in '_Gone With the Wind_'. It seemed so real…

Cool hands pulled her to lie back down. "My lover, what is wrong?"

"I just had the most horrible dream! There was a war, I had to wear a quilt for a dress, and Eric! You left me!"

Chuckling shook the hard chest where she rested her head. "You're laughing?! I had the most horrible nightmare and you don't give a damn!"

Strong fingers pulled her chin, drawing her eyes to meet his. "On the contrary, Dear One, I give a gracious plenty of damn!"


End file.
